The Corpse in the Room
by verkisto
Summary: They had a motive. Now all they needed was a murderer.
1. Castle's Connections

"Hey, Mand, how's it goin'?"

Kate stopped in her tracks at the entryway to the large office and watched, jaw gaping, as Rick Castle breezed in ahead of her.

Had that insufferable asshole just called the Director of Public Works for the City of New York "Mand?"

Amanda Blenkensop-Clarke was probably the most powerful woman in the city, and she knew it. Her office oversaw all construction and maintenance of infrastructure – sewers, cable conduits and the like – and was ultimately in charge of the water and electrical supplies as well. Even the folks in the Planning section kowtowed to Ms. Blenkensop-Clarke.

And as if this first surprise wasn't enough, Kate was pretty sure that, when Castle closed in to kiss the old woman on a leathery cheek, she reached around and grabbed his ass, giving it a good, firm kneading for a couple of seconds before releasing him and smiling up at the much younger man with a devilish gleam in her eye. And he had let her do it, too. In fact, he had even seemed to expect it.

Kate, still a bit overwhelmed by the lengths Castle would go to get what he wanted, walked forwards so she could be introduced. By the time she was in position beside Rick, now standing a respectable distance away from the frisky septuagenarian, the homicide detective had once again schooled her features and essayed a ghost of a smile as she extended her hand.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Kate intoned, inclining her head slightly. After all, this was almost like an encounter with royalty.

"Oh, pish-tosh, young lady!" the woman exclaimed. "You're a friend of Ricky's, Katie, dear. Please call me Mandy. And sit, sit."

Gesturing broadly, the director led them to a comfortable furniture grouping on the other side of her desk with a panoramic view through floor-to-ceiling windows of a large expanse of Lower Manhattan.

"Now, Ricky, what can I do for you, you darling boy?" the director gushed. Her hand twitched in her lap for a moment before settling back down and twining its fingers with those of its mate. Kate tried to keep a straight face when she realized that if Castle had been sitting about a foot closer, that hand would probably be on his knee right now.

"Well, Mand," Castle said, licking his lips and grinning sheepishly to give the impression that he was unsure whether to ask or not, "Detective Beckett and I –"

He paused and swung his head around to look at Kate for a moment and lifted his shoulders a tiny bit in a mischievous shrug. Kate figured this was intended to cast a sense of intrigue and even naughtiness over the whole affair. She decided to wait and let Castle play this out whichever way he wanted and raised her eyebrows at him before he turned back to the director.

"That is, Katie and I," he continued, "have a little problem, and we were hoping you could help us out."

The funny thing was this woman, who was obviously not and had never been stupid, was eating Castle's little charade up like cotton candy at a fair. She couldn't possibly fall for the boyish charm thing, could she? Especially when it was so decidedly faked, too.

Kate watched in wonder as Rick continued to work his magic, transforming Mandy into a preening, simpering, pathetic approximation of sex appeal, ready to do whatever he asked as long as he made her feel like a young girl again.

Castle outlined what they were looking for and, Kate had to admit, adroitly skirted explaining exactly why, even when pressed to do so by the director. He deflected her with a whole array of smiles, charming grimaces and body language that was more suitable for a bar at midnight than these sober and somber surroundings. By the time he was finished, Kate was holding a computer disk with all the information they needed. The small bit of shiny plastic contained otherwise highly confidential information about the City's planned changes to certain details of its core workings which, in the wrong hands, would represent a veritable golden goose for its possessor.

After Rick had permitted another minor violation of his person and they had made their goodbyes, the pair descended from the director's office and walked out into the humid sunshine, pausing for a moment on the pavement to adjust to the shimmering heat.

"You do realize that was sexual harassment," Kate stated dryly as she pulled the straps of her bag up over her shoulder. She wanted that disk as close by as possible until it was completely secure again at Headquarters.

"Oh, I don't mind being harassed a bit," Castle said. He grinned at her widely, what she was coming to recognize as his _I-just-did-something-extremely-clever-so-aren't-you-going-to-praise-me?_ grin, and quickly turned his back to her while bending over slightly and flipping up the bottom edge of his jacket as he did so. "As a matter of fact, you can have a go, if you want," he said, offering his tush up in a generous manner.

Kate groaned. "Grow up, Castle," she said conversationally and turned on her heel to start back towards the car they had come in. But not before she took a good, long look at his rather attractive posterior.

* * *

Kate, her expression rapt, sat in front of a laptop at a desk in Headquarters and browsed through the contents of the disk. Castle had assured the director that they would only use a computer that was not connected to the Internet or the force's LAN to view the material, they would print or copy nothing, and thoroughly destroy the hard drive when they were done. These directives had strongly impressed on Kate the importance of the information she was viewing even before she got a first glimpse of it.

Castle's sudden sharp raps on the glass surrounding the locked-down area where Kate was working caused her to jump a bit in her chair, and she raised a hand to her forehead, taking a breath to settle her nerves before looking over in his direction. He was juggling what looked like a couple of cardboard trays of Starbucks coffee cups in one hand, the curled-over edge of a large paper bag clamped between his lips as he vigorously rattled the door handle with his free hand. Of course. Kate had also insisted that the disk only be viewed with the door locked.

She got up out of her chair and went over to let Castle in, relieving him of the bag while at the same time gingerly avoiding the slightly wet patch near the top when he released it from his mouth.

"Thought we might need some provisions," he stated cheerily as he followed her over to the desk. "I don't know how you like your coffee, so I got an assortment."

There were, in total, eight Grande paper cups in two layers, which Castle unstacked on the top of the desk in front of them. He grabbed one for himself, adding, "This one's mine. Hot and rich, just the way I like my women."

Kate didn't even bother to roll her eyes at that one as she stood and inspected the remaining cups in front of her.

"What are these?" she asked, intrigued by the one with the large mound of whipped cream with caramel drizzle on top.

Castle, noting which one had drawn her attention, pulled it out of its holder and said, "Oh, you like this one? Very revealing."

Kate snatched the cup from his hand and lifted the plastic protector lid from the top. She scooped a dollop of whipped cream from it with her finger, unconsciously closing her eyes as she licked it off and enjoyed the decadent flavor. Smacking her lips a bit afterwards, she smiled slightly and asked, "Oh? And since you're the expert, what exactly does it reveal?"

Castle reached for the paper bag and ripped it open with a flourish, exposing a selection of Danish, muffins and squares along with various wide straws and long plastic spoons, one of which he extracted from the pile and handed to Kate.

"You'll have to wait for my next book to find out, Detective Beckett. Now, what kind of information did our obliging director provide us with?"

Cups in hand, they moved over to stand in front of the laptop and Kate flipped through some of the pages that appeared as she clicked the mouse from one to the next.

"This is a proposed amendment to the electrical conduit system that would allow the City to quadruple its cable capacity. You can see from the map just which sections it is intended to supply."

"Yes, well, Wall Street, that's logical," Castle commented, knowing there was more to come.

"But this map shows something slightly different. See? The supply is being routed to this unused dock area."

Castle was impressed, and as he looked at the sparkle in Kate's eyes, he could see how excited she was about this valuable new information. And she had every right to be excited because it went a long way to providing the motive for the murders she had been investigating, murders even more bloody and puzzling than anything that Castle had yet written into one of his best-selling Derek Storm novels.

They shared a gaze of complete mutual understanding, which could be, had it occurred under other circumstances, perceived as quite intimate, and Rick was struck when he realized that the detective's devotion to her job was, in some ways, at least, the same as what drove him to write. Detective Katherine Beckett felt a similar if not identical rush from the process of criminal investigation that author Richard Castle did when his mind lit on a way to make the story he was writing fit together and everything about the narrative suddenly fell into place.

When the edges of Castle's mouth turned up a bit and he swayed towards her, Kate broke their connection and turned eagerly back to the computer, sitting down so she could continue browsing through it to look for clues as to who might find this information as profitable as she and Castle figured it could be.

Rick smiled to himself now, then shook his head a bit to clear it. Reaching over, he selected one of the pastries and announced loudly, "Danish?"


	2. Kate's Square

Rick Castle awoke a few minutes after a beam of bright sunlight found a chink in the blinds and made a beeline for his closed eyes. Blinking like a very large and unkempt mole, he groaned and squirmed around on his bed trying to find a new comfortable position so he could fall back asleep. Just as he was beginning to drift off once more, the furious whine of a vacuum cleaner from somewhere above his head jolted him back awake, and he lifted himself up from the mattress in surprise before crashing back down to the bed's surface as his arms gave out from underneath him.

Bowing to the inevitable, he managed to get off of the bed and stand upright, swaying a bit as he pressed a hand to his forehead and winced. What had he done last night? Oh, yeah, Sweet Sixteen party. With a crime fiction theme, no less. He was going to have to have a serious talk with his ex-wife and publisher Gina about the personal appearances section of his contract.

The way he felt right now, Castle figured the crime had been how much he had had to drink to assuage his hurt pride at having to accept the gig. The fiction was probably the supreme illusion he fostered that he could still drink the way he did when he was twenty with no real consequences. Good thing most of the girls there had been underage and he hadn't been forced to prove that other things were still functioning the way they used to. At least not after the first half dozen tequilas.

Castle ran both hands over the stubble on his cheeks, giving the bristles a vigorous scratching to try to clear his head. Once he could open his eyes halfway and keep them open for more than a couple of seconds, he thought it might be safe to walk to the bathroom, which he did carefully, rising up on tiptoes and hurrying a bit to traverse the section of cold tile that wasn't covered by area rugs.

After he had relieved himself and splashed some water on his face, he rinsed his mouth with some mouthwash and got up the courage to peer into the mirror.

"You're looking old, fella," he commented. "Too old for selling out, at least."

Reaching over to the back of the bathroom door, he grabbed a terry robe on his way out and shrugged into it as he padded down the hall to the kitchen. His undershirt overlapped his boxer shorts in the front and served to cover the soft flesh collecting around his midsection, and he rubbed at the evidence of rich food, alcohol and a sedentary lifestyle as though it were a stain that would magically disappear if he just scrubbed at it long enough.

Alexis was sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen eating a bowl of soup and reading a book. She looked up when her father entered.

"Hi, daddy. You look old today," she commented before turning back to her book.

"Hi back, sugar pie. When I was teaching you about honesty, did I mention the thing about sometimes it's okay to lie?" he commented, leaning over to deposit a kiss on the teenager's red hair when he passed by. As he opened the fridge and reached in for the carton of orange juice, Castle could hear a bustle at the kitchen entrance. He closed the door and turned back around to face the noise, raising the carton to his lips and taking two or three large gulps before lowering it and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Good morning, Martha," he said to the stylishly dressed older woman standing there appraising him coolly.

"Good afternoon, Richard. You look old, dear," she said before sweeping into the room to pick up a set of car keys and a handbag from the counter.

All Castle could manage at this pronouncement was a silent opening and closing of his jaws as his daughter grinned at him and mouthed, _You see?_ in his direction.

"Where are you off to, mother?" he asked, coming around to stand at the end of the counter.

"I'm going to a fundraising planning meeting, my misguided son. Save the whales or elephants or some such. Something large, at any rate. I'll be back in time for dinner. Make something nice, will you?"

Before turning to go out the door, she paused and regarded her grown son again before saying, "At least close your robe, dear. It's bad enough you have to put all that smut in your books. When Alexis writes her tell-all memoirs, I don't want her to remember you parading around the apartment naked. Oh, and Gina called. Something about wages. No, stages. No, no, _pages_."

With a wry stare, Martha swirled out of the room and down the hallway, leaving Castle and his daughter shaking helplessly with laughter.

* * *

Kate had the day off. An actual day off. Even though she was in the middle of a murder investigation, it was well in hand and she could afford to divert her attention for a little while. No, change that. The case had come up against a brick wall, so nothing was happening to further the investigation. But this meant she could have a day off!

Sighing, the detective sat down at her dressing table and looked in the mirror. She really needed some time to relax. There, right under her eyes. The circles were deeper than a week ago. She was starting to look old. Maybe she could blame it on Castle.

Picking up a small bottle of the eye moisturizer that Lanie Parish, the medical examiner, had recommended, Kate unscrewed the lid and dipped the end of her index finger into it. She swooshed small amounts of the cool cream under each eye before closing the container and picking up a comb. After running it through her hair a few times and surveying the result, Kate resigned herself to the fact that it was going to take a lot more than some cream and a comb-through to hide the evidence of her worries. She replaced the comb on the surface of the dresser and stood, looking down at the big fuzzy slippers on her feet and track-pants-and-sweatshirt combo she was wearing as pajamas. Maybe Lanie was right. Maybe it was time to feminize a bit. But for herself, not for that crazed novelist person.

Moving through her apartment to the kitchen, Kate poured herself a glass of milk and went to sit on the couch in the living room. It wouldn't hurt on her day off to take a few minutes to run through the case, would it? After all, there were no union rules governing a homicide detective's hours of work. And Kate's favorite way to relax was to chew on a case anyway. She'd never been the knitting type.

It had started with a call two weeks earlier from a citizen complaining of a strange smell coming from their building's dumpster. The desk sergeant at the local precinct argued a bit about whether any smell from a dumpster should be considered strange or not before sending a couple of uniforms to check it out just to shut the old lady up.

When the two officers had approached the dumpster, they had to agree that there was a very strange smell coming from it. And when the building's superintendent provided a ladder and held it so one of the cops could climb up and have a look inside, the officer almost added the smell of vomit to the mix, luckily turning his head to the side at the last moment so he wouldn't contaminate the scene of a particularly grisly murder. Then things had gotten very exciting indeed.

Three more corpses in various stages of desiccation and decomposition had quickly been discovered in three other dumpsters, all within a ten-block radius, and Kate and her team assembled the appropriate maps, crime scene photos and anything else they could get their hands on to make up a case board to start building their investigation.

It had looked promising at first until the autopsy reports came in showing the four men had each been killed in different ways – one by strangulation as evidenced by purple and black finger marks around the neck; one by gunshots to the head, since the back half of the skull was missing; one by asphyxiation with a plastic bag taped tightly over the head and face; and one by, of all things, a fast-acting poison. And they had each been dead for varying periods of time. Lanie estimated from between two weeks to two days. So whoever had done the deeds had spaced the killings out and then dumped the bodies all on the same night.

Castle had been downright gleeful. Kate was pretty sure he didn't try to be disrespectful to the dead, but when he grinned and rubbed his hands together as he viewed the photographs, it made her ask him what kind of childhood he had had. "The theater," had been his enigmatic reply.

So now, two weeks later, they still had four bodies, four horrific deaths, several unhelpful interviews from the unfortunate people who had found the victims, and no apparent connection among the dead men that a homicide detective could see. But there was a connection that a novelist who ran in the social circles of Rick Castle could see, and that was what the information on the disk was for: to furnish a theoretical motive.

However tenuous, Kate could now draw a line from victim to victim. Actually, a square with each victim at a corner and an "X" from corner to corner. But as Castle had explained it to Kate and her team, for the metaphor and the story to be complete, there would have to be someone else at the intersection of that "X." Kate sipped at her milk and frowned. It was her job to test the theory by solving this case. And to do it in enough time so that that person, the one who belonged on the "X" – whoever he or she was – didn't end up being the fifth corpse.


	3. Castle's Brainwave

Kate was out of bed bright and early Monday morning. It was amazing how restorative a little downtime could be. Working a homicide squad in New York City was never anything less than hectic, and Kate was beginning to feel that Old Man Time might be starting to catch up with her.

It had just been little things at first, signs that she was no longer a fresh and eager recruit from the police college. A bit less energy, not as much resilience, a few more aches and pains – especially that old bullet wound near her left knee joint that acted up in damp weather. But luckily, today, the New York sunshine was in full force, and if the humidity was still a little high, it wasn't oppressive enough to quell Kate's good spirits as she entered Headquarters at a brisk pace and called out cheery "Hello's!" to the people she knew. When she reached the doorway of the large room where her squad's desks were located, however, she pulled up short and let the contented smile slide from her face.

Castle was there, sitting behind Kate's desk, using her stapler to bind together what looked like photocopies of newspaper clippings, and if the empty coffee cups and crumpled McMuffin wrappers were any indication, he had already been there for quite a while.

Looking up and wearing a far too cheerful grin as Kate approached, Castle called out across the room, "Don't worry, there hasn't been a murder!"

Kate narrowed her eyes and ground out a carefully controlled, "Yet," before adding, "Good morning, Castle, and just what is it that brings you here so early this fine day?"

Before there was time for him to answer, Kate received her second surprise of the morning.

"'Lo, boss," Esposito mumbled through a mouthful of cheese and English muffin as he came around from behind her and sat down in one of the visitor chairs set in front of Kate's desk. The second chair was quickly filled by Ryan who, since he had apparently finished eating and was now only working on a cup of coffee, was able to manage a clear, "'morning, Detective," before setting his half-empty cup down on Kate's desk and carefully unbuttoning his jacket so it wouldn't wrinkle.

Kate only let her jaw swing open a tiny bit before she caught herself and stuttered out, "What are you guys doing here so early?"

Ryan looked a little confused. He put his hands in the air in front of himself as if to ward someone off and swiveled his head around from Kate to Castle and back again.

"Uh, Rick called us in?" he said warily when he registered the calculating look on Kate's face, the one that usually meant she was about to pull rank.

Instead, she narrowed her eyes and glared at the seemingly oblivious author, who had somehow managed to staple the button placket of his shirt just above his belt to a handful of papers and was carefully inspecting his navel area and trying to decide what to do about it.

As though he could feel Kate's steely glare on him, Castle raised his head sharply and, facial muscles slack, managed to grunt out, "Huh?"

When Kate hissed the single word, "Castle," past clenched teeth and tight lips, Esposito and Ryan took the opportunity to quietly flee, hoping that their boss' full attention was now on the author and not on them.

Still trying to free the newspaper clippings from his shirt front, Castle placed the stapler onto the desktop, then stood and pulled the tail of his shirt from his pants and proceeded to unbutton it from the bottom up. He was so intent on the task that he was a bit startled when Kate's long, slim fingers entered his field of vision followed by the back of her head as she stooped a bit and moved closer to deal with the problem.

Castle froze only momentarily before dropping his hands to his sides and allowing the detective to take over. A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he turned his head from side to side to see if anyone was looking. He hoped so. This was too good to miss.

Finally detaching the clippings, Kate pulled them away from Castle's abdomen and straightened up. When she saw the look on Castle's face, she allowed herself a small eye roll before stiffening her free arm in the direction of one of the visitor chairs on the other side of the desk and barking out, "Sit!"

Once Castle had scurried around the desk, hastily tucking his shirt back in as he went, and sat down opposite her, Kate, assuming a somewhat regal manner, lowered her bottom onto her chair as though she were reclaiming her rightful territory, and she continued to glare at the man opposite her for an extra second or two so she could be sure he had gotten the point.

When this little impromptu ceremony was concluded, Kate glanced at the sheaf of photocopies that were in her hand and moved her other arm through the air just over the surface of her desk, fingers spread and palm up, to indicate the other stapled and unsorted newspaper articles.

"What's all this?" she asked Castle.

As she spoke, Esposito and Ryan got up enough nerve to return to the area and they edged close enough so they could stand behind Castle. Kate took in the eager looks on their faces and the fact that the two detectives were almost bouncing on their toes with an excitement that telegraphed itself to her and caused her to perk up a bit. The energy coming from the pair even began to dissipate her impatience with the infuriating man-boy who sat calmly now and gazed at her, a smug and serene look on his face.

Castle's unaccustomed stillness gave Kate the opportunity to note some details about his face that she hadn't really seen before. He had lovely long, sandy eyelashes framing light blue eyes, and behind the attitude he was currently pulling – in fact, behind whatever attitude he happened to be pulling at any given moment – Kate could see a basic kindness and gentleness that was rare these days, especially in a man as arrogant and conceited as Castle usually made himself out to be.

Kate gave herself a mental shake and pulled her attention back to the clippings. They all seemed to be from the society pages. She turned her face partway towards the trio and, while keeping one eye on the men in front of her, started to flip the pages one by one.

"Just a little thing I like to call a stroke of genius," Castle answered loftily, and when her two detectives actually began to look gleeful, nodding their heads like demented dashboard dog ornaments and almost giggling out loud, Kate felt that maybe if she slammed her forehead onto the surface of the desk in front of herself a few times she just might be able to keep from throttling all three of them. Instead, she just stared levelly without moving until Castle's face adopted a more serious demeanor.

"Right," he began, clearing his throat. "We're already working on the theory that these murders have something to do with the privileged information that Mandy provided about the City's plans for provision of infrastructure to mostly unused Manhattan real estate along the waterfront – sewer upgrades, electronics conduits, eventually subway service and the like."

At this point, Ryan sat down on the unoccupied chair next to Castle while Esposito dragged another chair to his other side and also sat down. Castle, a master at playing to an audience, looked around the small circle of faces and waited until he had gotten nods from each one, which indicated to him that they were all paying attention.

"So what I figure is who is interested in buying undeveloped real estate?" he queried, eyebrows raised.

"Um, developers?" Kate supplied dryly.

"Wrong," Castle said forcefully, jabbing a forefinger in the center of the nearest pile of newspaper clippings. "People with money. Or, more to the point, people who have money who want more. And in this case, people who need to know that their investment will be a sure winner."

Despite herself, Kate was intrigued, and she leaned over her desk a bit more, frowning at the clippings with a puzzled look on her face. It only took about three heartbeats for the detective to work through the logic, and Castle began to smile once more when he saw the flash of recognition in her eyes.

"And they know it's a winner because they have the City's plans," she declared decisively.

"Yes," Castle continued eagerly along her train of thought, "and they need to know about the plans because it's imperative the new development makes back their investment."

"With a healthy profit, of course," interjected Ryan smoothly.

"Naturally," said Castle, turning his head to look at the young man for a moment. Turning back to face Kate, he explained, "And so I thought our suspect is probably from a wealthy family – or at least from a family that still has some wealth now. Somebody who's come down in the world, desperate to recapture the good old days of prosperity and power that they can see slipping through their grasping fingers."

He paused for dramatic effect before concluding with, "Someone desperate enough to kill so they can succeed."

Kate smiled for a moment before positing what she thought might be the $64,000 question. "And what happens after we identify some probable suspects?" she asked.

The tone of voice Kate had used seemed slightly belligerent, even to her ears, and even as the words were coming out of her mouth, Kate had no idea why she was challenging Castle's self-labeled "genius" plan. Was she really so caught up in her role as smart detective that she couldn't let someone else have good ideas? She quickly figured that this was something she should examine later, once they had worked this case, and she filed the thought away in her memory for future examination.

"Well," Castle said, "we infiltrate, you know, step into the lion's den. I know a lot of these people so access isn't a problem. You can just follow my lead so you don't make any mistakes. I bet you clean up real nice too," he added before noticing that Kate's eyes were narrowing again as she began to do a slow burn.

The author's casual words had stung horribly and served to squelch the detective's optimistic mood from earlier. It wouldn't have bothered Kate so much if she hadn't, just two days earlier, been doubting herself and her ability to "clean up real nice," as Castle had put it.

As she struggled to get past his hurtful words, Kate found it beyond her power to do so at the moment, and she let the full extent of her anger and resentment show in an effort to mask the vulnerability Rick Castle had suddenly laid bare so easily.

A whispered, "Uh-oh," came to Castle's ears from Esposito, and the boys once again quickly stood, scraping their chairs back in their haste to ensure they could make a clean getaway.

"You. Are. The. Most. Arrogant – oh!" Kate spit out before springing to her feet and whirling abruptly away from her desk.

Castle looked at the detective's retreating back as she stalked out of the room, fists clenched, elbows locked, holding her arms stiffly by her sides. Her long, powerful strides and severe expression caused more than one person to jump out of her path so she wouldn't bowl them over in her anger.

"Guess she's not a morning person," Castle observed in a detached manner, turning to look at each of the two remaining detectives for confirmation.

"Nope," and, "Unh-unh," added Esposito and Ryan simultaneously, the first biting his bottom lip slightly, the second shaking his head slowly from side to side with a pensive look on his face.


End file.
